


A World Our Own

by Heckin_Cycle_Path



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Super Smash Brothers, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Legend of Zelda References, Link (Legend of Zelda) Needs a Hug, M/M, Mentions of Other Super Smash Brothers Characters, References to Super Smash Brothers, Smash Mansion, Super Smash Bros. Brawl, Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, World of Light (Super Smash Brothers)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heckin_Cycle_Path/pseuds/Heckin_Cycle_Path
Summary: Mostly just a set-up chapter. I've never written for any Smash characters before so please let me know how this is going so far. I'm starting the story from Ike's point of view and I'm planning on sticking mostly to his perspective, but I might change to Link sometimes depending on what people want to see. In this universe for Smash characters, they don't have explicit memories of the lives they had before they were recruited into Smash, just in case anyone gets confused by the bit at the beginning where Ike is having an existential crisis XD
Relationships: Ike x Link, Like-Like/Linkle (Legend of Zelda), Link x Ike, Marth/Roy (Fire Emblem)
Kudos: 12





	A World Our Own

“It’s strange living this new reality. I was sure that I used to be…someone. I had friends. A home. Memories of these places that seem so vivid, and yet here I am. Unable to reach a single one. I’m alone, tumbling into this dark abyss, spiraling into confusion. Leaving all my thoughts to accept my new reality. But what is my new reality? I really don’t understand anything going on inside my own mind. That’s where I should feel safe. That’s where I’m meant to be secure in my own body. My own ideas. But I’m not. And a part of me thinks I’d never be scared of something so small and insignificant. I’ve faced worse. I just can’t remember right now. It’s this tumbling machine filled to the brim with madness and confusion and I’m trying so hard to swim to the surface, but I’m buried by thoughts I can’t escape. My struggles are futile in the end. I have to succumb.”  
I look across at my therapist who has been viciously taking notes throughout our entire session. His eyebrows furrow as he looks at his paper before writing one last thing and then turns it around to reveal a horrendous rendition of me.  
“It’s-a pretty good, huh?” He says, seeming quite proud of himself. “See that’s-a you talking about-a your problems!”  
I feel my eye twitching despite myself. “Did you even listen to anything I just said?”  
“Just because they put-a Dr. in front of the Mario does not make-a me a licensed professional!” He hands me another piece of paper. “That’ll be-a $300!”  
I look at the bill with absolute disbelief on my face. “This is for one session?!”  
“That’s-a correct. My art does not-a come cheap.”  
I grumble as I dig through my pockets and scrounge up enough money that I’ve gained from winning some previous matches. He smirks underneath that bushy mustache before handing me the crudely-drawn portrait. I snatch it away from him and stuff it into my belt before storming out of his office. That is the last time I go visit him.  
I push open the doors of his office and make my way to the training arena. It’s still a few hours until my next match so I’ve got some time to blow off some nerves. Therapy was supposed to help with that, but apparently, therapy was a very generous term to give…whatever the hell that disaster was. There are a few other people training here, but I do my best to avoid them. Unless it’s Marth or Roy, I don’t go out of my way to be all buddy-buddy with the other fighters. The only reason I hang around Marth is because we have a special connection. We tried some stuff out together, but in the end, we were just too different for each other. We’re still great friends though, and I’m happy that he found happiness in Roy. Seeing him smile makes the turmoil in my head a bit more bearable.  
Taking a deep breath as I reach the training dummy, I pull out my sword in one swift motion and attack in a sweeping blow. The dummy flies a few feet into the air before bouncing against the shield-like barrier and coming to rest in front of me again. I unleash a flurry of expertly-time strikes, kicking in between blows until the dummy is ready for a final strike. Steadying my breath, I charge up my stance until I feel the strength coursing through my veins and unleash a critical hit. This time the dummy flies straight into the top of the barrier, shaking violently before crashing back down and bouncing off the walls a few more times. There are a few beads of sweat collecting on my forehead as I stand the dummy back up and turn around to leave my training pod. But on the other side I see Princess Peach, waving her hand in front of her face and giving me those eyes she’s given practically every other competitor here. This is not the time.  
I step outside the training pod and try to walk past her, but she reaches her hand across my waist and tugs me toward her by the belt. “Tsk tsk trying to get away before even saying hello, handsome? That’s no way to treat royalty.”  
I exhale slowly, gritting my teeth as I turn around to face her. “What do you want, Peach?”  
“Princess Peach, handsome. Let’s not forget our manners. I thought I would stop by and see if you had any special plans after your match tonight.”  
“As a matter of fact I do. I’m going to be with Marth and Roy enjoying the rest of my night off. Now if you’ll please let me go, I’m going to go to the arena and get sign in.”  
She doesn’t let go of me though, and it takes all my will not to just tear out of her grasp. “Oh but I think we could have so much more fun together.”  
Her hand wanders far too close to my crotch and I finally get the nerve to tear away from her. “I told you. Not. Interested. Go get someone else to deal with you.”  
She feigns hurt but I know she won’t have any trouble finding someone else. I turn away from her and walk toward the arena. Most of the competitors I’ve seen her hitting on have no problem with Peach getting handsy, but I can’t stand the way it feels. The look on her face is cunning and dangerous. She reminds me of a snake ready to make the final move before devouring me whole. It horrifies me. But I really can’t focus on that. I don’t have the time nor the energy. I need to focus my thoughts on the battlefield. I’m up against some very strong opponents today, and I need to have my wits about me. No use lingering on unpleasant feelings. I’m about to get one hell of an adrenaline rush to help me forget anyways.  
The side entrance to the stadium is guarded regularly so no wild-card fighters get in, and I see Marth and Roy both waiting at the door for me. A smile crosses my face at the sight of their hands intertwined and Marth’s head resting ever-so-gently on Roy’s shoulder. It’s good seeing them this happy. Helps me forget the existential dread that sets in sometimes.  
Marth looks up from Roy’s shoulder when he spots me heading toward them, and he waves at me enthusiastically. “There you are! We were beginning to think we had missed you going in!”  
My smile widens as I stop a few feet in front of them. “Nah I couldn’t go in without my biggest fans sending me off with their good luck.”  
Roy laughs a bit and cups one hand around mouth. “Show us the muscles.”  
I roll my eyes and flex my biceps, leaving both Marth and Roy to whistle and holler in a ridiculously dramatic way, but this is tradition. Who am I to question the pre-battle rituals of the great Marth?  
After I’ve been properly blessed, they both wrap me up in a hug and wish me luck before I step through the door into the prepping area. The other seven fighters are already here, all doing final touch-ups to their armor and weapons, and I join them. I already had my armor on because of training earlier, so I really just need to give my sword a quick sharpening. But just as I’m finishing this task, one of my competitors walks up to me—Little Mac—and hands me a piece of paper.  
“Did you drop this?” He asks me, and when I turn the paper over, I see that the horrible rendition of me by Dr. Mario is in his hands.  
“Oh for the love of…” I take the paper from him hurriedly and toss it into a nearby trash can, but not before I feel a blush making itself prominent on my cheeks.  
Little Mac holds back a snicker, but he’s not the only one who took notice. Wolf practically howls with laughter as he picks the drawing out of the trash can and turns it around to show to me. “Practically can’t tell the difference!” He turns it around again. “Oh wait, I think this one looks better.”  
My other opponents have a good laugh at that before Wolf tosses the paper on the floor. I grit my teeth and remind myself to focus my energy on Wolf first.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The stadium surrounding us is packed full of spectators, and as I scan the stands from my place on my personal platform, I spot Marth and Roy giving me a thumbs up. This makes me smile and set my stance with determination. I’ll win this match for them.  
A countdown is heard over the loudspeakers, and when the platform beneath my feet vanishes, I land expertly on the ground before running at Wolf, who has his claws out and a smirk on his face. He expects an attack and acts swiftly to return a stunning blow, but I counter him just in time to avoid taking damage. His frustration is already starting to show, and now it’s my turn to smirk. Getting him flustered was a crucial first step. Now to let his anger get the best of him. I beckon him toward him, goading him on to make the next move. He lashes forward, but I easily sidestep and land a solid blow from behind. He howls with rage and turns to lash out, grazing my chest in the process. I wince as I take damage, but he’s going to have to put up more of a fight than that to beat me.  
I step forward and hit him expertly with several well-time slashes of my sword, racking up his damage until he is ready for my final attack. He’s panting with the effort, but I can still see the fire in his eyes as he glares at me, assessing me and waiting for my next move. With a careful glance at his stance, I see that he is about to charge with great speed, and just when I see the flash of light, I bring my sword down with incredible power, launching him out of the arena. A perfect fight. I took minimal damage. Now to deal with the rest of my opponents. 

There’s only two of us left on stage, and both of us are at considerable amounts of damage. I size up my opponent. I haven’t seen him as often as many others, but I do know his name: Link. His eyes are trained steadily on my movements, one hand keeping his shield steady and the other on the hilt of his sword. I’ve never been in a match with him, but from what I’ve seen, he is a powerful opponent despite his innocent-looking features. Best not to underestimate him.  
I start running towards him, my sword clutched tightly in my hands as I shout a battle cry to try and throw him off. He looks anything but shaken though. His grip on the hilt of the sword tightens and he rushes forward to meet me, letting out a cry of his own. Our swords lock and I kick his feet our from under him, but before I can bring my sword down, he has somersaulted backward and away from my attack. He pulls a bomb from his belt and throws it, catching me off guard. My damage goes up more, and I feel the effects of high damage starting to throw me off. But I stay determined. I’m going to win this match.  
I jet across the stage, letting my sword go before me and catch Link off guard, sending him flying off the edge. He barely recovers, but when he does, a Smash Ball appears in the air and we both make eye contact before chasing after it recklessly. I get a few hits on it, but I’m not the strongest jumper, and as it flies higher above the stage, Link gets the final hit in and power visibly surges through him. Shit.  
I do my best to dodge away from his glowing form, but once those eyes are set on me, I know I’m screwed. The gleaming arrow pierces through me and sends me flying off the stage, and that voice comes on over the loudspeaker, signaling the end of the match.  
As I respawn in the prepping area, I take a deep breath and clutch at my stomach for a moment. I’ll never get used to the feeling of respawning. That brief moment between death and the respawn keeps me up at night. What if one day I never return? But before my thoughts can spiral out of control, Link spawns in next to me and offers me his hand.  
I reach out and shake his hand. “Good fighting out there.” He tells me in a voice far softer than I had expected.  
“Yeah. You too.” His hand is somehow soft too despite how well he handles the sword. It makes me feel a bit self-conscious about the roughness of my own hand. How is someone so gentle such an adept fighter?  
I realize that I’ve been shaking his hand for a bit too long, and I pull back, wondering what the hell is coming over me. That smile on his face makes my chest tighten, and the way his blond hair falls over his forehead is making that redness come back to my cheeks. With a slight shake of my head, I do my best to rid myself of that embarrassing flush before Link takes notice.  
He looks up at me with the bright blue eyes and runs a hand through his hair. “I was going to ask if you wanted to join me for some dinner in the main hall. It’s okay if you don’t! I just wanted to talk to you about a few of those moves you use. You’re really an excellent fighter.”


End file.
